


Prick

by MissGillette



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Blood, Coming Untouched, Consensual Mind Control, Gay Billy Hargrove, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Relationship, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 13:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGillette/pseuds/MissGillette
Summary: Billy needs to feed, and he only wants Steve. Steve finally says yes.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 24
Kudos: 420





	Prick

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ wrote this in a few hours lol. Mostly because Steve/Joe Keery got them thick, fine thighs and I could NOT help myself. Don’t hold your breath for more of this universe or anything. I just wanted Billy making a chew toy out of Steve’s thighs. 
> 
> [@missraygillette](https://twitter.com/missraygillette) I tweet about things I'm working on. Come love these stupid boys with me.

“Is this really how you have to do it?”

“You’re questioning the vampire if this is the right way to feed?”

Billy doesn’t even look up from where he’s already settling himself, welcoming himself between Steve’s splayed legs. Steve should probably find this more awkward than he does but…

“No, like, I didn’t mean it that way, but like? Don’t you guys usually go for necks?”

Steve jumps when short, rough fingers curl under the leg holes of his boxer briefs and yank them into the creases of his thighs. Like he wasn’t exposed already. Like Billy actually needs more room to work. Steve’s lucky Billy doesn’t just drag them off him and feed with Steve’s half-chub obscene and in his face. 

“Nah,” Billy drawls, finally looking up the freckled length of Steve’s torso. His eyes are bright, but not influence bright. “That can get messy. Hit something wrong and you get a fucking fountain everywhere. Unless I were trying to kill someone, I guess.”

“Uh huh,” Steve drawls, not amused with Billy’s shit-eating grin, fangs poking over his stupid bottom lip. “So you just go for thighs, huh? Couldn’t like pick an arm or something else?”

Blond curls tickle Steve’s thighs when Billy lowers himself down to lie on his chest. Still staring up at Steve, waiting for color to bloom in the center of his pretty face and for Steve to squirm. They always do. The grin helps, even though usually Steve just snorts or rolls his eyes. Still, he’s not impervious to Billy’s charm, especially with the grinning bastard’s shoulders wedged snuggly between his legs. Steve has to bend his knees and spread them wider to give Billy room. Broad-shouldered prick…

Billy’s voice is thicker than before when he murmurs above leg hair and pale skin, “Nope. This way is best.” On his elbows, he slides his hands up from Steve’s knees and then over his inner thighs. All with that fucking heavy eye contact. “We can go nice and slow like this. It’s gonna hurt a lot, so.”

Steve startles and shoves himself up on his hands without thinking about it. 

“Hey, hey, wait man, you didn’t say anything about pain.”

Billy pinches Steve’s thigh hard and rips a yelp out of him. If Steve were a cat, all the hair on him would stand up. 

“Like that, but deeper. You’re gonna feel it in your gut, when I sink my teeth into you.”

Now more than ever is Steve glad Billy didn’t take his underwear off. Billy’s voice alone gets him interested, fucking asshole knows it too. But with Billy slightly cool to the touch between his thighs, eyes a little puffy and tired, Steve can’t say no. The devil on his shoulder, always cautious to trust despite his loving nature, pokes his insecurity. That Billy is just using his influence to get what he needs. Even after all the trust he’s built with Billy, all the times Billy asked and Steve said no, he still can’t help it...

“Billy…” He tries not to squirm and bite himself.

He’s only insecure around Billy anymore when it comes to this. Billy knows exactly what Steve’s whine is all about. 

Sighing and exhausted, Billy hangs his head for a moment. 

From under the curtain of his messy hair, he grumbles, “I’m not doing anything, okay? I’m not looking at you anymore. Fucking tell me if you wanna do this or not, Steve, I’m gonna pass out otherwise.”

Steve frowns down at him and snaps, “Why did you wait so long to ask me, then? If you needed blood—”

Head snapping back up, Billy gives him a thin glare and barks, “Because I got tired of you telling me no.”

Steve snaps his mouth shut. An expression of hurt flashes over Billy’s face, but he sweeps it under the rug. 

Lowly, he adds, “I don’t wanna feed from anybody else but you. If I suck cow blood one more fucking time—”

“So it **was** you! I knew it!”

Billy’s glare curdles into something annoyed, lips thin and disgusted where they’d once grinned. 

“I could just wither away and die if you prefer, Harrington, don’t let me twist your arm or whatever.”

He’s already getting up, shoving himself away from Steve. Rejected. Again. Billy hasn’t called him Harrington in months now, so the name from his lips is even more bitter than ever. Steve slaps at the bed in a wild scramble to chase Billy down and bring him back. 

He gets hands around a bicep and rambles, “Hey, hey wait, wait man, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry, Billy please come on, I didn’t mean it like that, you can bite me, I already said you could, come on just…”

Billy stops tugging in Steve’s hands and watches him with a sideways glance. Billy only ever looks vulnerable like this when it’s Steve. He could ask practically anybody in town and they’d let him feed. Even if they think Billy’s an asshole—which he is—Billy could get it. Influence or no, he could get it. He just doesn’t want it from anyone else. Those thoughts do something funny to Steve’s stomach, sort of like holding hands with a girl or kissing one, so he doesn’t look into it. Billy watching him is a good enough distraction. 

“Come on,” Steve pleads with a tug to Billy’s arm. He doesn’t budge. “I said you could, and I meant it. You’re almost as white as me, will you please just take my damn blood already?”

“I’ve never used my influence on you.”

Steve blinks. His hands are starting to get clammy on Billy’s unnaturally-chilly skin. 

“What?”

Billy turns back to Steve on his knees, body still tense and not entirely committed to this again. 

“I’ve never used my influence on you. I wouldn’t take your free will like that, even if I were desperate. So I wish you’d quit acting like I do.” He finally looks away, down somewhere near Steve’s knee, and adds rough under his breath, “I’m not like that.”

Not like the guy in California who’d bitten Billy as a child. Steve is maybe the only person besides Billy’s parents who knows the truth. Billy lies about it like he always does to strangers, making this big story about seducing a vampire a few years ago to get them to bite him. It’s not so outlandish that someone would call Billy on his bullshit. Steve just never believes anything he hears via the grape vine about Billy. All the tendrils of gossip lead back to him, and Steve isn’t big on sour grapes. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again with another useless tug to Billy’s arm. “I’m sorry, Billy, I mean it. I know you don’t fuck with my head, I just—”

“Can’t help your backwards, hick stereotyping?”

The flash of annoyance is hot like burning in Steve, but he pushes it away with a hard exhale. No use riling each other up and starting a shouting match. He doesn’t want to fight with Billy anymore. 

“Yea that. I’m sorry I’m prejudiced against you, I’m trying to work on it.” Steve swallows hard, and his hands tighten over Billy’s skin. “I told myself the next time you asked, I would play it cool and let you do it. Cuz I… trust you.”

The last wisps of tension in Billy’s face fade like sunrise burning off fog. His face isn’t made to be so vulnerable and open. Steve can’t look at Billy long with all his bravado and machismo blown away. So Steve stares down at Billy’s hand and digs the hole of his embarrassment deeper by slipping down to take thick fingers and that rough palm between both of his. Just holding. 

That shocks Billy out of it, and his fingers go curling over the side of Steve’s palm. 

“You trust me.”

It’s not a question, but Steve nods while still staring at their hands. He sneaks glances up through the wave of his hair, but they have no holding power. Billy just watches him as openly and unashamed as he always does. Steve is a little envious of that. 

“Yea, so will you please come back and take my damn blood? If I call 911 because you pass out, Hopper is gonna show up and think something happened, and I don’t feel like dealing with that.”

The spread of Steve’s legs and the graze of Billy’s skin between them isn’t playful and full of grins like the first time. Not like Billy shoving him in the halls to get in his personal space or guarding him like a second skin at practice. No it’s… not too unlike a girl crawling into bed with him about to go down on him. And all at once Steve’s face is pink under his beauty marks and his squirm is back. He tries not to make a sound when Billy’s fingers shove at his underwear again, almost brushing flesh underneath. 

“So um…” He’s too nervous to look at Billy or keep his mouth shut, so it’s time to ramble. “So it’s uh gonna hurt? You said it would, and all the like movies and TV shows make it out to be this like screaming, gory thing, but uh…”

Billy snorts, puff of air tickling fine, black hair on Steve’s thigh. It’s a little more sparse on the soft insides. Where Billy will aim those ridiculous fangs and pierce skin. 

“Yea, baby, it hurts a lot. You’ll probably be sore for the next few days. Don’t wear tight jeans to school, you’ll irritate it.”

Steve flops on his back, arms spread eagle, and grumbles, “Fantastic, cuz that’s what I want.”

Lips draw over his thigh and Billy murmurs thickly, “It’s not too late to say no. Once I start, you won’t want me to stop.”

Ears pink now too, Steve stutters, “S-shut up and just do it. You so owe me for this, Hargrove.”

“Start a tab, pretty boy, cuz after this I’m gonna wanna taste you all the time.”

And yea, he feels that in his gut. Like someone has smoothed their hand up between his legs and squeezed all friendly like. Mortified all over again because of Billy’s voice, Steve bites back a whine and throws an arm over his eyes. Before his nerves can stop him, he shuffles on the bed and spreads his legs that much wider for Billy. So he can have space to work. 

“Do it,” he grunts, grimacing, waiting for the pain. “Get it over with.”

Billy’s hum is another shot straight to the concerning pool of heat behind Steve’s navel. Hopefully this terrible pain Billy speaks of will be enough of a boner killer. Because if Billy keeps breathing on him, kissing his thigh, fucking licking it hair and all, Steve will have a little problem soon. Or rather a big problem that’s about to tent the front of his underwear. Billy slides a hand under the thigh he’s already lavishing attention on, calluses rough and making Steve ache more. Steve’s breaths are faster and faster all the time, because he’s so stupidly turned on but also terrified, and Billy said it would hurt, and he doesn’t like pain, or doesn’t think he does, and…

It’s the slight sound of pressure, suckling, rather than the feel of it that breaks through Steve’s hysteria. He holds completely still, too afraid to do anything other than breathe and just lie there. No pain. Not even the feel of Billy’s lips on him anymore. Just the distant sensation of pressure. Like poking at his jaw and lips after a trip to the dentist, all numbed up. Eyebrows coming together under the cover of Steve’s arm, he peeks, too curious for his own good. 

He finds Billy relaxed with his eyes closed like he’s at an altar, deep in worship. And maybe he is, because although he cannot feel it, Steve is positive Billy is finally getting the blood he needs. Only Billy sighing against him and shifting the pressure of his mouth lets sensation through. No pain, only… only Billy’s mouth on him and Billy’s slight sounds vibrating through his lips, maybe moans, and tongue lapping at him. Jesus why don’t Billy’s fangs burn where the puncture him? Just feels so… 

Uh oh. 

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes. “What… what are you doing to me?”

There’s no way he can hide Billy’s impact on him, now. Especially not when blue eyes crack open so painfully bright and alive to stare up at him through the top of Billy’s vision. Steve’s thigh dents when Billy presses harder, but Steve still feels nothing except something like fingers twisting the spring inside him tighter and tighter. Better than jerking off, better than sex, and Steve’s body knows that twisting so well and responds to it in the usual way.

The slight twitch in Steve’s underwear draws Billy’s focus, and then he groans loud and hard on Steve’s skin. It must be something amazing for Billy if he can’t keep his eyes open, actually pinches them shut and shakes his head a little back and forth against the wound. It’s something Steve has seen in porn and done himself on an occasion, and that’s too much imagery with Billy’s head between his legs. Steve collapses back to his pillows and holds onto the pillowcase for dear life. 

Breathing hard again, Steve shudders and curses, “Billy, holy shit…”

The shock of air on his wet thigh when Billy pulls away doesn’t even burn. It’s almost a relief from how hot he is, now. But Billy is right back on him, mouth sloppy and wet closer to the crease of Steve’s thigh where it meets his torso, biting again. This time Steve feels fangs carving through him. The bolt of electricity doesn’t have far to travel and sinks hot and white to his dick. 

“Fuck!”

Steve’s chest bows off the bed. In an instant, Billy’s hands are iron at his hips to keep him down. They’ll leaves bruises and make Steve sore tomorrow. He has no chance of squirming under that absolute power. Supernatural. 

Billy tears his mouth away from that bite, too, lapping at sluggish blood beading at both. Steve’s unmarked thigh deserves some too, and Billy groans before he turns his head to do just that. Steve’s head already spins when Billy sinks into him a third time. This one, though, is almost cloying and too much. Adrenaline pumping, the pain is exciting like a hand rubbing over him. Steve has to throw a wild look down and between his legs to make sure Billy isn’t actually fondling him. And maybe it’s the pain or Billy’s eyes watching him, but Steve wouldn’t say no to that right now. He’s never wanted so badly for someone to touch him. He’s going crazy. 

It would be unbelievable under Billy’s influence. Steve knows he’d be floating with phantom touches all over him, Billy all over him and his voice everywhere. Coaxing and relaxing, everything is okay, I won’t hurt you, I need you, let me do this, you know you want it.

Steve strains against Billy’s hands and whines with his head thrown back. He doesn’t even care how terribly needy it sounds. He’s making a wet spot in his underwear, and he knows Billy can smell him and probably taste the musk of him between his legs. It’s disgusting and head-spinningly hot all at the same time. No one has ever, could ever make him feel like this but Billy. Desperate for it, Steve rips a hand from his pillowcase and finally slides his palm over himself, just squeezing to take the edge off. 

Over the bump in Steve’s wrist, blue eyes narrow up at him. 

Air on Steve’s third bite wound does sting when Billy pulls off and growls, “No.”

A shock zips through Steve, shaking, and then Billy’s left hand wrestles Steve’s away from himself. Billy shoves Steve’s wrist into the bed and holds him down until bones rub together and Steve whines, painful. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” Billy pants. There’s probably blood on his lips. “Don’t.”

Billy squeezes his wrist all the harder with that one word and then lets him go. Steve waits with tight anticipation for Billy’s hand to take his place all along his straining cock. But no. Billy hunkers back down, gets his hands behind Steve’s knees, and hikes them up. Folding them to Steve’s chest until he’s almost bent in half, keeping them spread wide. That hurts and makes each breath a struggle, but Steve is too drunk to care. He’s not even sure his head is on anymore, can’t feel anything other than his wet cock trapped in his underwear and the throb of his heartbeat in Billy’s bites. Billy isn’t done with him. 

Steve watches with melty, murky eyes as Billy’s white teeth snap at the elastic of his underwear and rip them down with a wild toss of Billy’s head. Not enough to slip his cock free, but enough to expose the subtle V of his hip and Steve’s thin treasure trail. He would be embarrassed about it if he could think straight. Instead, all he can do is watch plush lips paint kisses down from his navel, down black hair, and then closer to a hip. It’s entirely too intimate, just dumps more fuel on the burning between Steve’s legs. Could he come like this? Without a hand touching him? With nothing but Billy biting him? Maybe it’s Billy’s intent when blue eyes catch his and Billy sink back into him, biting the softness of his belly. 

Heart jumping into his throat and choking him, Steve can’t look away while fangs pierce him like a needle through cloth. No resistance and only the initial shock of pain before it becomes tingly and warm. So much warmth piled onto him, into him without Billy doing anything other than this. There’s no influence in bright eyes that stare him down, just Billy’s mouth on him and tongue unseen lapping up blood. Billy’s eyes almost flutter shut when he groans, but neither of them can look away, now. Influence or no, Steve is enraptured and mindless to everything but watching Billy.

So Steve’s orgasm slams into him without him realizing. Like a punch to the gut that has him breathless and every muscle straining tightly. Until he’s throwing his head back and his startled wail bounces back off the headboard and into his ears. It sounds distinctly like Billy’s name. 

Steve bucks only once against Billy’s weight between his legs, the hands pinning his thighs to his chest. It’s more like a flinch with Billy’s strength holding him down. But after the first, loud yell, Steve is all heavy breaths, voice high and straining through every exhale. His hands are claws in the sheets while he makes a mess in his underwear. At least he has that to help him avoid complete shame. He hadn’t come on Billy’s face, so. It’s the devil on Steve’s shoulder again, trying to ruin his afterglow. He shrugs it away with a petulant whine and just rides out the pulses of his orgasm. Billy’s fangs make a wet sound when they slip out of him for the last time. 

When Steve’s legs meet the bed again, he’s sore all over. Probably couldn’t move or even walk if he tried. He’s a twitching mess, shying away initially from weight denting the mattress beside him and hands in his hair. But it’s just Billy and the warm smell of him, musky-sweet cologne and cigarettes and exhaust from the Camaro. It’s good, a good smell that Steve doesn’t understand why it’s good, and he lets Billy scoop him up and roll him. The first kiss to his damp forehead comes as a little shock, but Steve allows it and more kisses spread so carefully all over his face. Fond. Adoring. 

“You’re okay,” Billy murmurs deeply to him. “You’re okay, I’m right here Steve, it’s over.” A kiss to the corner of his slack mouth. “You were incredible, baby, can’t believe I made you come just from that, Jesus Steve…”

Billy carries on like that, full of praise and hushed words of thanks. And Steve believes them wholeheartedly. He’d meant what he said before about trusting Billy. He said it and meant it, now thinks maybe that trust goes so much deeper. Would he let any other supernatural creature do this to him? Surely he would have stopped anyone else at the first, slick throb between his legs. No. He would have asked to stop at that point. With Billy, he just wants it all over again. More. 

Billy’s noise and flinch when Steve slots their mouths together is adorable. So unlike Billy’s junkyard-dog attitude. They lie there together with Billy’s hands frozen on Steve, Steve’s own fingers curled in the hem of Billy’s white t-shirt. When Steve presses forward, laps almost shyly at the surprised gap between Billy’s lips, that’s when Billy springs back to life. He groans rumbling and deep before cupping the back of Steve’s head. He tilts Steve’s head how he wants, sweetening the angle and lapping at him until Steve’s nose scrunches into Billy’s cheek. They don’t care about the mess or the spit or pawing at each other. They don’t care about Steve dragging his tongue over the point of a fang and blooming blood into their kiss. Not until Billy’s thigh between Steve’s irritates those bite wounds and Steve’s moan turns into a cry of pain. 

Billy is off him in a second, big hands nudging Steve onto his back once more. But Billy doesn’t leave, is warm again with blood in him and strong, heavier on the mattress than Steve. It keeps them together even as Steve flinches and reaches an unsure hand down to his thighs. There’s blood on his sheets, but it’s whatever. Not the worst thing these sheets have seen. 

“Don’t,” Billy says, so gentle in his voice and his fingers that scoop up Steve’s right hand. “Don’t touch them, they’ll hurt more. Here, look at me.”

And Steve knows what Billy is going to do. His rough hand smooths over the first two bites when their eyes meet. And there it is, the floating feeling of safety and contentment, Billy’s mouth shut in his stern way but his voice tickling in Steve’s ears. No words Steve understands, just the sound of Billy in his head. Caring and consoling. Taking his pain away. Billy bows his head with their gazes still locked and rests their foreheads together. Below, his hand slides away to the third bite on Steve’s other thigh. The burn disappears. And then finally Billy covers the last and leaves his hand there even when they close their eyes as one, breaking the spell. 

When Steve finds his voice, it’s a rough croak from shouting through his orgasm. 

“You are… such an asshole.”

Billy’s hand flinches on Steve’s belly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he shakes the bed with his laughter, backing away to catch Steve’s narrowed eyes and pout. 

“Yea baby? Tell me something I don’t know.”

Steve huffs, lifts his week hand, and jams a finger in Billy’s chest. 

“You said it was gonna hurt, and it didn’t… At first.”

Eyebrows waggle at him, and Billy purrs down at him, “The first one didn’t hurt, because I got my spit on you before the bite. The rest”—Billy’s fangs poke over his lower lip in a mean grin, teeth discolored with blood—“the rest hurt cuz I wanted you to feel me inside you.”

Steve makes a face full of disgust despite the skip in his heart and the weak twitch between his legs. Luckily, Billy is all eyes on his face, on his blush, so he doesn’t see it. Thank Christ. 

“You are so lame, man,” Steve grumbles. “Who the hell talks like that?”

“That’s not a complaint I’m hearing,” Billy laughs in his blushing face. “Come on, baby, don’t be like that, I know you like it.”

Thick arms wrap around Steve and yank his side against Billy’s body. His thigh goes brushing on the front of Billy’s jeans, but he’s not hard. Which Steve can’t imagine how that’s possible. 

Steve actually blinks down their bodies as Billy nuzzles his hair and asks, stupid, “How are you not hard?”

A hum in soft hair and then thickly, “Won’t be able to get hard for a few more hours. Gotta let that”—he snaps his hips into Steve—“vitality make a few laps around before I can use it. I’m actually about to fall asleep, so…”

Billy’s arms loosen. Like Steve will push him away. Kick him out. What would Billy do, just sleep in his car? It’s snowing harder than Steve has ever seen it. So he grunts and throws his own arm across his body and over Billy’s, fingers scrambling in the small of his back to keep him close. 

“Go to sleep then,” Steve says without any snark. “No point in you driving your stupid car into a ditch, I’ll just have to come get you and bring you back. You’ll never make it down the hill at the beginning of the subdivision.”

It’s a lot of words just to invite Billy to stay warm and heavy in Steve’s bed. In each other’s arms. But Steve knows Billy gets him, because a lazy kiss presses to his cheek, and then more nuzzling. He would have never figured Billy for a cuddler. Just like Steve. 

“We should mmm…” Billy slurs on the edge of passing out. His hand rubs lazy over Steve’s stomach, farther down until black hair scrapes under his palm. He doesn't mean anything by it. Just touching. “We should talk later about… this.”

Steve’s nod is gentle, mindful of Billy’s face so close. 

“Yea definitely… um…”

Billy’s arms tighten around him like he’s not tired, and Billy says firmly, “I want you, before you go chasing your tail. I wanna take you on dates and hold hands and fuck you, all that shit. So you better think about what you—”

“That’s fine,” Steve fires back, turning his head to meet Billy’s wide eyes. 

“Yea?”

Steve hesitates for only a second before nodding. 

“I’ve never… done this with a guy before. But you’re…”

Steve struggles to understand, everything happening a little too fast. They’ve skipped Go, did not collect $200, and are on a fast track straight to jail. He doesn’t want things to be awkward and stumbling between them, though. Like everything else. 

Growling through his uncertainty and fear, Steve just frowns at Billy and says, “I want that, too. All that stuff… and you can keep feeding from me if you want. You don’t have to get blood from anywhere else.”

Billy has that raw, vulnerable look again. Face soft in the center and eyebrows together, unsure. Like he can’t trust himself to believe Steve. 

“Steve… do you even know what you’re saying? What that means? I—”

Slim fingers on Billy’s lips stop him dead in his tracks. He’s still so vulnerable in his eyes, surprise and hope shining in them so brightly. Steve just offers him a tick of a smile. It’s okay, everything will be okay. 

“Somebody’s gotta save the cows in Hawkins.”

Billy takes a breath through Steve’s fingers, but Steve doesn’t want to talk right now. Not when they’re both so tired from… this. He replaces his fingers with his lips in a plush, chaste kiss. Just long enough to shut Billy up. 

“We can talk later, okay?” He covers Billy’s hand on his navel, lets Billy lace their fingers together instead. “Okay?”

A nod and then Billy cuddles closer, nuzzling at his cheek, his ear, his hair. Steve thinks Billy sighs his name or some sweet nothings into soft locks, but he’s too tired to know for sure. His heart beats in his fingers tangled between Billy’s, and he just hopes Billy can feel it, too. Beating for him. 


End file.
